


who we are

by Thorinsmut



Series: Free Orcs AU [8]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU: Erebor never fell, AU: free orcs, Anal Sex, Complete, Family Feels, M/M, Rimming, Smut, lots of talking, relationship repair, trust and distrust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows Trade Caravan to Gundabad.</p><p>Dwalin hunts Nori down to have a talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hunt

Dwalin hunted Nori.

He saw Thorin through the Great Gates of Erebor, then turned to walk directly back out of them. He’d collected his payment the night before and used it to barter for leftover supplies from the rest of the caravan. His pack was heavy with odds and ends that added up to enough for a _long_ journey.

Thorin caught his arm as he turned away, and Dwalin did not pull out of his cousin’s grip.

“There is a price on his head.” Thorin said low, “He will be brought to trial if he ever sets foot in Erebor.”

“I _won’t_ bring him to you.” Dwalin answered just as quiet, and Thorin nodded slightly even as his jaw tensed. They had come to at least some small understanding of each other – Dwalin would do what his Prince ordered him to do, and he had completed his contract despite _needing_ to go after Nori, but he would not make a move against the thief unless ordered to do so.

Dwalin’s loyalty was to Thorin and the Crown first, but his heart was with Nori. He would not _choose_ to collect a bounty on Nori.

Thorin gave him a hard look and nodded once more, before letting him go.

Dwalin turned around at the Great Gates and hunted Nori with a knot of fear under his stomach.

He had traveled with Nori enough over the years to know his patterns. It did not take him long to find Nori’s trail. He had gone far and fast from Gundabad, and Dwalin caught his trail heading east, following a hunch.

Nori was always most comfortable in the borderlands of the east, most at home there, and he’d left Gundabad in _pain_. Of course he would run there.

Dwalin was thrown from the trail briefly when Nori parted ways with his Orc guards, but picked it up again heading south toward the sand and heat.

Maybe it was that Nori _knew_ he couldn’t shake Dwalin, that Dwalin knew too many of his tricks.

Maybe it was that Nori couldn’t afford to hire enough warriors to intimidate Dwalin away – the way he sometimes caught up with Dwalin, with kisses and a whisper of ‘I’m being hunted’, and the offer of work.

Maybe… maybe he _trusted_ Dwalin – but remembering the sharpness of Nori’s words and the pain in his eyes when he left, Dwalin didn’t put too much weight on that theory, and that twisted the knot of fear even tighter.

Whatever his reason, Nori didn’t run far once he realized Dwalin was hunting him. He chose the place and time to let Dwalin catch him.

It was a small camp, out in the wilds, with the slow evening dusk beginning to fall. Nori was alone on the other side of a small fire. A small pot simmered at the edge of the cookfire, the enticing scent of Dwalin’s favorite spiced stew wafting out. It smelled like Nori had caught a rabbit for it, unless he was mistaken.

“Share the fire, soldier.” Nori said, his voice even and his eyes cold. Dwalin sat on the stone that had obviously been placed for him, setting his pack aside, and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to fix the fragile unspoken thing between them that had shattered so completely. It had taken a terrible blow when Nori was discovered as a thief in Gundabad, when he had shamed Dwalin before his future King.

It had taken a blow, but Nori had still wanted to make things work. He had offered Dwalin release when he was running mad.

And Dwalin _loved_ him. He hadn’t even realized until he shouted it at Thorin.

He had never needed a word for what Nori was to him. Nori was just _Nori_ , one of the few Dwarves Dwalin saw out wandering the world, nearly the only Dwarf of Erebor, and the only person in the whole world Dwalin wanted to bed.

He sat across the fire from him and didn’t know what to say to fix things. He was almost tempted to take out his viol to play, to pretend this was just a normal evening between them. But it wasn’t. Nori wasn’t smiling at him as he talked about the stew or whatever they had seen that day. Nori was sitting very still and watching him like he was a snake about to strike. He didn’t know what Nori had against Nobles or the Royal family of Erebor. He didn’t know why Nori had needed to say the cruel things he did with pain that would break him just behind his eyes before he left.

“You never paid me to fuck you.” Dwalin said, and he didn’t know why he was opening with _this_ , with the smallest and least important accusation. Maybe because how things had ended was far too painful to even think of. “You were paying me, and I fucked you, but that was never what you paid me for.”

They both knew that already, and Nori nodded slightly, his face still set and cold.

“And I _don’t_ think it makes someone less to prefer the anvil.” Dwalin added. “…I’ve… I _have…_ done it. It was alright.” So many long decades ago before he met Nori. He’d liked it well enough, but never really _needed_ it – and then there had been Nori who didn’t want that from him. Nori and no one else.

If it surprised Nori, it didn’t show. He was always so good at hiding himself.

Dwalin fell back into silence, with Nori watching him and again not having the first idea what to say. He’d hunted Nori down to try and _fix_ things between them, but if Nori didn’t want to fix them too then there was no hope. The knot of fear – fear that Nori would reject him – pulled tighter.

He _was_ still angry with Nori himself, for what he’d done to Dwalin’s reputation, but it would mend with time. If he stayed out of Erebor for decade or so it would blow over. It wasn’t as though the same hadn’t happened when he first left Erebor. He left distrusted, a disgrace, and he returned to find himself admired – that only his strength as a warrior was remembered.

Dwalin wanted to fix things with Nori so they were like they were _before_ Gundabad, if that were even possible.

Nori _had_ wanted to fix things, up until the moment he found out Dwalin was related to the Royal family.

In all their years Nori had never mentioned anything that would explain his enraged reaction – that pain – but that wasn’t how they worked. Dwalin was only ever told what he _needed_ to know.

“Thorin’s put a price on you.” Dwalin said, because Nori should know that, “You’ll be arrested and tried if you ever set foot in Erebor.”

Nori barked a brief laugh – though it wasn’t really a laugh. It was more a sound of panic, too high and loud and too nervous to be anything else. His eyes were bright and angry and afraid.

“He’s not the first. He can add himself to the list.” Nori spat. “He sent _you_ to drag me back.” He said, not even a question, and the way he was watching Dwalin had the hairs at the back of his neck prickling with danger. Nori wasn’t _visibly_ armed, but he so rarely was. That didn’t make him less dangerous.

Dwalin never wanted to fight him.

He undid the buckle of his axe harness and shrugged it off to lay it and Grasper and Keeper aside. He gathered up his few knives and lay them aside too – just outside of easy reach. He unbuckled his knuckledusters and added them to the pile. He looked back across the fire at Nori, completely unarmed.

“I was not ordered to, and I would never _choose_ to.” Dwalin answered. “…I love you.” he added quietly. Nori deserved to hear that from him some other way than it being shouted at Thorin.

The brief instant of relief on Nori’s face snapped away as quickly as it had come.

“No.” he said, standing and pacing jerkily by the fire. He kicked something into the flames and Dwalin flinched, but it was just a pebble, not a flashbomb to disable him.

“No.” Nori repeated, his jaw tense with his anger. “I never asked for that. You stopped fucking anyone else when we met? I didn’t. You have no _right_ to claim me, _Nob_.” The way he spat it made it into a sharper insult than any that had ever been thrown at Dwalin.

And he didn’t know why that was such a horrible thing to be. It didn’t really affect his life, out wandering the world.

It did sting, to know that Nori was still fucking other people, but their agreements had never been spoken. Dwalin knew that Nori was only ever with _him_ when they were together, but in some way he had suspected Nori might be with others when he was not. They didn’t see each other for years, sometimes.

It did not sting as much as he thought it might have, unless he thought of Daul and Blotaz and then he still couldn’t quite breathe.

Nori was right, he did not have any right to _claim_ him – but he’d never _tried_ to do that.

“Why does it matter who I’m related to?” Dwalin asked.

“Because you’re _cousins_ with the Crown Prince who would have _happily_ watched my life blood pour down the Basalt Tower!” Nori snapped viciously.

The Basalt Tower of Erebor, dark monolith of stone, Mahal’s hammer poised to strike. There were _so few_ crimes punishable with execution, and Dwalin’s heart froze.

“Because Erebor’s ‘justice’ is only justice for Nobs like _you_.” Nori raged on, “Did you ever _ask_ why I’m so far from the mountains? Why I was not there when my little brother walked for journeyman? Why my mother only had _two_ sons to stand by her when she was given back to the stone? Why my sister’s children will have never even _heard_ my name? Because Nobs like _you_ made it so I can never go home! Because Erebor’s ‘justice’ said when I was beaten and left for _dead_ I had it coming, but when I hunted my attackers down and slit their throats for it that was _murder!”_

Nori’s eyes were hard, his face twisted with his anger, and Dwalin swallowed hard. He could imagine… _all too easily_ he could imagine that exile.

“That _is_ murder.” He said quietly, and Nori’s face crumpled as his legs did too, sitting down hard on his stone across the fire, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“You think I don’t know that?” he asked, raw and desperate.

“You were tried…” Dwalin still could hardly believe it, couldn’t fit the shape of it into the understanding of Nori in his aching heart. It didn’t sound right – if he’d been severely beaten his attackers _should_ have faced justice. Dwalin would have to ask Balin to look into it – though he didn’t know _what_ if anything could be done so many decades after the fact. Especially as Nori had taken justice into his own hands and made himself a murderer.

“Caught, tried, sentenced, and scheduled for execution.” Nori answered, his shoulders hunched up. Dwalin had never _seen_ him vulnerable like this.

“How did you escape?” Dwalin asked, and he _never_ asked. He never asked questions of Nori. Being asked questions was Nori’s cue to start playing with knives or get Dwalin to intimidate people. He didn’t really expect an answer.

“My brother, Dori… he sold his dowry – and mine, but – _his own_ dowry _._ He sold his entire inheritance for the bribes to get me out of Erebor.” Nori said at his boots, “He asked for two things. That I never set foot in another mountain of Dwarves, and that I _never_ try to contact them again. I only know _anything_ about them because little Ori secretly sends letters out.”

Balin would have done the same for Dwalin, he knew he would have. But holding it over him that way, using it to deny him entrance to _any_ mountain of Dwarves… that was cruel.

Nori’s eyes were poison as he looked up at Dwalin again, “Can you even _imagine_ that?” Nori asked, and Dwalin could. All too easily he could.

“Everyone so far from the mountains has a reason.” Dwalin said. “My family are several generations removed from Thorin’s.” Dwalin saw the hard rage on Nori’s face at that, but plowed on, “My father, Fundin, was a Lord. Not the most powerful, but respected. My older brother, Balin, is one now. I was a _useless_ second son in Erebor. As useless as I was going mad in Gundabad – you saw how I got. Picture that, building for _years_.” Dwalin explained.

“Erebor drove me mad.” Dwalin said, feeling an echo of the frustration of those years – being young and strong and hot-blooded with nothing to _do_. “I was useless, and I took to drink. I would get drunk and angry and find someone to fight. _Anyone_ to fight. Noble or not, I got thrown in the tank by the guard often enough they knew me by name. The list of taverns I was barred from was longer than the axes’ handles. Not even my family could keep it quiet. I was an embarrassment to my line.”

“I didn’t care.” Dwalin continued. He hadn’t, so much. He’d tuned out his father’s lectures because only blind-drunk and brawling had he felt focused and _alive_. “I’ve never been the _best_ of Dwarves. I didn’t care until the day I overheard… they thought I’d gone out drinking already, and my mother was crying while they planned how they’d sneak me out to exile _when_ I finally killed someone in a brawl. They didn’t question whether I would. Just a matter of time before I became a killer. I had to leave Erebor before that happened.”

Dwalin met Nori’s eyes across the fire, “It could have been me.” he said. “One punch too many and it could have been me living out here in exile. I _can_ picture it.”

Dwalin didn’t _talk_ about this. Even within his family it wasn’t acknowledged _why_ he had to leave Erebor. Why he was better off a wanderer with only the good stories making their way home. His skin felt scraped, raw and uncomfortable, and Nori couldn’t be feeling much better. They talked about so many things, but never anything important. They’d never mentioned their families, never talked about their pasts.

The fire crackled between them, falling into a fine even bed of coals because Nori was always good at campfires. The pot of Dwalin’s favorite spicy stew bubbled softly at the edge of it.

Nori picked at his boots, not really meeting Dwalin’s face.

“You’re a Nob.” he said quietly, his tone could only be described as petulant.

“Not out here.” Dwalin answered, “Out here in the wilds and the lands of Men… I’m just a wandering sell-axe.”

“You’re still the Orcfucking _Prince’_ s cousin.” Nori grumbled, and that _did_ worry Dwalin. It had worried Thorin too, that someone who seemed to hate him would have that knowledge. It _could_ be used to hurt him.

“Oh don’t _look_ at me like that.” Nori said, “Who would believe me if I told? It’s not like they don’t _already_ say that about him.”

Dwalin could feel himself tensing at _that_. No one had ever said it in _his_ presence or they’d have met with his axes.

Only, it _was_ true.

But Azog, with his war experience… Dwalin could _respect_ him, even if he _was_ an Orc.

Dwalin didn’t know _what_ to feel about it. It had been agreed between him and Thorin that they would not agree about their respective choices.

Dwalin _could_ see Thorin’s point about Nori… but at the same time, he was _Nori_. Hurt as he might be by him, Dwalin loved him. The trust between them might be bruised – Dwalin wouldn’t be trusting him so quickly again if it seemed they were at cross purposes – but he still wanted them to be able to travel together out in the world. He still wanted them to laugh and fuck and cook together over campfires. They’d had so many decades of that, Dwalin didn’t want to lose it.

The world was a wide, lonely place without the chance of meeting Nori in it.

Nori sighed heavily and gestured Dwalin over with a turn of his head. “Come here.” he said, and Dwalin always obeyed, didn’t he? Even when Nori wasn’t paying him to.

Dwalin walked over beside him, and let Nori pull him down to sit beside him. Nori’s eyes were bright in the fading daylight and the reflected light of the campfire, and the hand he rested on the back of Dwalin’s neck was warm.

“I can’t hate you.” he said, like he was disappointed in himself because of that. He pulled Dwalin forward to rest their foreheads together, and he smelled like travel and campfire and spices. Dwalin dared reach an arm around him to pull the smaller Dwarf closer, and Nori relaxed into the familiar feel of their bodies together. This they had always been better at, letting their bodies speak to each other, and Nori's said he wanted this as much as Dwalin did.

“Why did you follow me, Dwalin?” Nori asked.

“I couldn’t let us be broken.” Dwalin answered, the knot of fear under his stomach finally easing at closeness with Nori. He reached up with his second hand to softly stroke Nori’s cheek, to brush his lips before pressing their mouths together in a brief kiss.

“I don’t want to lose you.” He couldn’t stop touching Nori, snuggling him in close, “I’m _yours._ ”

'I'm yours' he said, and it meant 'I love you'. Maybe it always had, all these years he'd said it without realizing. If he realized it now, so did Nori. He'd _always_ liked it when Dwalin said that, and he couldn’t help the smile in his eyes before he closed them, shaking his head slightly.

“I never asked for that.” he said, and Dwalin nodded. He wasn’t asking for anything from Nori – nothing but the chance to rebuild what they’d had before.

“I _have_ other lovers.” Nori said, and Dwalin gently stroked his back even though it _did_ ache a little in his heart. He’d never really assumed Nori _didn’t._ Nori didn’t go with anyone else when he was _with_ Dwalin, though.

“You really don’t?” Nori asked, “You weren’t just saying?”

“No.” Dwalin answered.

“But that’s _years,_ sometimes.” Nori protested.

“I have a hand.” Dwalin answered with a small shrug. How could he explain that he hadn’t _wanted_ to go with anyone else? “I didn’t feel the lack. I’d rather wait to have the best.”

Nori preened slightly at that, and Dwalin could feel a small smile on his lips at it.

“But _you_ do.” he said, sobering, and Nori nodded.

“Not as much as I used to.” He admitted, “I’m not _eighty_ anymore, but I’ve got a few I visit. I like variety.”

…and that was Nori. Dwalin wasn’t claiming him, wasn’t trying to own him. He just _loved_ him. They were wanderers, both of them. A more formal arrangement wouldn’t suit them. Nori didn’t want it, and even Dwalin knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. His family would not be happy about it for one, and being formally tied to a thief wouldn’t be good for his reputation regardless.

“…Daul and Blotaz?” Dwalin asked, mind catching on the image that still haunted him, Nori moaning with the Orcs all over him.

“That pair? Nah.” Nori said lightly, “They’re as married as Orcs get.”

Dwalin couldn’t help the tension that left him at that, snuggling Nori closer against his chest.

“That’s not to say I wouldn’t have taken them up on it if they offered.” Nori added.

Dwalin’s throat let out a soft sound of protest as pain twisted in his heart. Nori went still and tense in his arms, pulling away, and Dwalin let him go.

Nori was back to watching Dwalin like he was a snake.

“Just don’t… not in front of me, Nori.” Dwalin begged, “I can’t _watch_.”

This was a limit Dwalin had. Nori had always been good at honoring Dwalin’s limits. If their agreement was changing, as it was here, if it needed to be spoken now in ways it never had before, then this needed to be said. He could only hope Nori would understand.

Nori watched him warily for a few long heartbeats before he nodded. “I don’t want anyone else when I’m with you, anyway.”

They sat quietly for a little before Dwalin hesitantly reached for Nori again, and the smaller Dwarf scooted closer to settle back into his arms. Dwalin rubbed his cheek along the top of Nori’s soft, soft hair.

“We’ll be alright?” Dwalin asked, and Nori snorted a short laugh as his clever fingers tangled in Dwalin’s beard to pull his face down for a kiss.

“We might.” he answered, breathed soft across Dwalin’s lips, and a _chance_ for them to rebuild was all Dwalin wanted.

They kissed for a while, not really building toward a fuck, just sharing closeness. Dwalin’s hands roamed across Nori, reacquainting himself with the Dwarf he’d been so afraid he would never have again. Nori’s hands stroked across him too, like maybe he’d been worried of the same thing.

They kissed and touched until the sun had fully set and the campfire was the only light.

“We ought to eat…” Dwalin suggested, and Nori made an agreeing sound. He untangled himself from Dwalin’s lap and reached for the pot of stew that had been fragrantly bubbling on the edge of the fire the entire time.

Dwalin’s stomach growled in anticipation as Nori lifted the lid

…and poured the entire pot out onto the coals.

“Nori?” Dwalin didn’t understand.

“Poisoned.” Nori said, arranging another armload of firewood over the fire, blowing on it to get them to catch from the coals that hadn’t been extinguished.

“…poison.” Dwalin breathed. Nori would have _poisoned_ him, and something of his horrified confusion must have shown on his face.

“I _survive_ , at any cost.” Nori said, his face hard, “I didn’t know who sent you or why.”

He poured water into the empty pot, swirling it around before dumping it out away from camp. He wasn’t looking at Dwalin as he put the pot back over the fire upside down, to burn out the inside, his shoulders hunched up.

“I didn’t _offer_ it to you.” Nori added, “…figured it might avenge me if you came to kill me, or maybe you’d take a break from beating on me to eat it. That’s worked before.”

“You thought I _could_ …” Even if Thorin or the King _himself_ ordered him, Dwalin _wouldn’t_ kill Nori. He didn’t have it in him. Even at his most angry he hadn’t wanted to beat Nori either.

He _loved_ Nori.

“It only takes _one_ old lover trying to kill you.” Nori answered, “I’ll believe _anything_ of _anyone_.”

…if he put it like _that_ …

It _still_ hurt. It hurt but Dwalin understood where it came from. Nori made himself enemies with his craft and he didn’t always have Dwalin to protect him. His paranoia kept him alive.

Dwalin stroked a hand affectionately across Nori’s back as he walked past to his pack. He dug out his cooking pot and some barley and dried meat.

“Let me cook, tonight.” he offered.

 

Dwalin and Nori lay together, comfortable and familiar spooning together in their combined bed rolls.

“If we’re ever at odds again, if we’re ever working for people who’re against each other…” Dwalin mused, idly stroking Nori’s chest hair. “You _have_ to tell me. We’ll come up with something, together. It can’t just be _my_ reputation taking the hit. Can you promise me that?”

Nori pondered for a while, with Dwalin softly kissing the nape of his neck, before he nodded.

“Yeah, I can do that. I _always_ try not to steal from anything you’re protecting.”

Dwalin gave Nori a little squeeze in gratitude.

They _would_ be alright, the two of them. They would relearn how to be.

Out here wandering in the world – this was where they belonged.

This was where they belonged together, not trapped in the middle of politics – caught between love and duty.

They would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Basalt Tower was borrowed with permission from Greenkangaroo's Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.  
> The description from there:  
>  _The highest non-residential or work zone in the mountain, it was a sheer drop of two hundred feet into the deep, cold waters of Forlorn lake. At its base it was gigantic; the top tapered off to a flat platform of three hundred feet around. On one end still sat the granite block with its hollow and sluices in one end and deeply bored hole in the other. Beheadings, hangings, burnings on occasion; the Basalt Tower had seen them all._


	2. to remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gratuitous smut chapter

Dwalin moaned into the blankets, hands clenching so tight in them there was a small part of him that worried he’d tear them to shreds. It was a small part of him, very far away and easily ignored. All his attention was on what Nori was doing to him, humming contentedly between his legs.

Things had been _good_ with Nori. They’d been relearning being good with each other. They traveled together as they did, met and parted ways and met again. Dwalin had to make better money than traveling with Nori sometimes, and Nori had to do work Dwalin would have no part of sometimes too.

Nori tended to more wariness when they met back up, but Dwalin didn’t ask questions. He didn’t ask if Nori’d had other lovers, because he didn’t want to know. All he needed was to have Nori when he was with Nori.

They didn’t tend to talk about their pasts, the things they’d discussed, but they both held the knowledge. Dwalin didn’t talk about Erebor much, especially didn’t talk about returning there. He didn’t want to hurt Nori with knowledge of the place he could never return. Nori _knew_ where Dwalin was going now, and why, but neither of them said it. Dwalin would rather _not_ return to Erebor again so soon, but he didn’t have much choice. Every Dwarf of Erebor who _could_ was returning to the mountain.

But he and Nori didn’t talk about that.

One of the things that _had_ changed was that Nori wanted to try different things with Dwalin now sometimes. Dwalin mentioning that he didn’t mind playing the anvil had lead to some _very_ enjoyable explorations. Nori’s eyes would get bright and curious, a laugh in his smile as he asked ‘has anyone ever…’

Sometimes the answer was no. More often the answer was ‘not as well as you do’.

Being fucked by Dwalin was still Nori’s favorite and they did that frequently. Fucking Nori while playing with his perfect hair was still Dwalin’s favorite and they did that often enough, but it was _fun_ to try out Nori’s ideas. Dwalin hadn’t been disappointed yet, so when Nori started chuckling at him across the fire with _that_ look on his face, promised him that _no one_ had ever done this for him before and he was going to love it, and then given him some very _specific_ cleaning instructions – Dwalin had been more than willing to go along with it.

Dwalin moaned his curses into the blankets as he spread his legs wide as they would go, arse up and pushing into it while Nori… _filthy thief_ …. Dwalin could feel the smaller Dwarf’s beard silky soft against his stones and the backs of his thighs, the soft contented huffing of his breath against Dwalin’s tailbone, hands gripping Dwalin’s arse to spread him wide and his _tongue_ …

Wicked, terrible, _wonderful_ clever tongue _inside_ him.

It was _filthy_ and at the first pass of Nori’s tongue over him Dwalin had nearly called the whole thing off – but then there was another, and another, and it was warm and so soft and slick, flicking and circling and pressing into him, and all he could do was moan and curse into the blankets.

Nori’s tongue squirmed inside him, and Dwalin nearly sobbed with it. He _couldn’t_ spread himself wider, let Nori in deeper.

Nori fucked Dwalin with his tongue and Dwalin lost all sense of time and place, everything in the world was Nori between his legs, the slick of his spit, the warmth, and the obscene cleverness of Nori’s lips on him, his tongue inside him.

It was forever and wonderful and _not enough_ and Dwalin snarled a wordless protest an eternity later when Nori withdrew.

“Greedy…” Nori purred, pleased, stroking Dwalin’s thigh affectionately, “ _Look_ at you.” he breathed.

“ _More._ ” Dwalin found the word to beg, whimpering as he heard the familiar pop of the salve tin’s lid popping off. An instant later Nori’s slicked cock was pressing slowly into him. It slid in smoother and easier than it _ever_ had before, Dwalin’s warmed muscles yielding easily to it.

“There…” Nori soothed, stroking Dwalin’s sweat-slick back, staying still as Dwalin groaned at the depth and fullness, adjusting to it, “Is _that_ what you wanted?”

Dwalin pushed back against him, grinding Nori’s cock deep, shuddering with the intensity of it. He was _so_ sensitive already from Nori's tongue.

“Just _fuck_ me already.” he growled – only it came out more of a ragged plea than a growl. Nori chuckled softly as he drew back and then snapped his hips forward to make Dwalin gasp and groan into the blankets.

Again, and again.

Nori’s hands were everywhere, stroking his back, his thighs, reaching beneath him to stroke Dwalin’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“Look at you, soldier.” Nori breathed, “So beautiful spread out for me, like you were _made_ to take it…” and Dwalin might have protested being called ‘beautiful’ but at this moment Nori could say _whatever_ he wanted to as long as he _didn’t stop_.

“Don’t stop.” Dwalin begged, clenching down on the cock that spread him wide, filled him deep. His body bucked and trembled, squirming beyond his control as it searched for that little bit _more_. He was fucked on Nori’s cock and fucking into Nori’s hand and _there_ was just the right depth and angle to grind against.

Dwalin’s climax hit him like a warhammer. He roared into the blankets – bellowing like an ox, Nori sometimes described it – eyes clenching shut and the bright wave of it crashing through and through him and leaving him limp and trembling on the wet spot of his seed.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ” Nori cursed high and breathless, driving into Dwalin hard and fast to finish himself off too.

Nori collapsed across Dwalin’s back, and Dwalin heaved him off to roll over and grab hold of him. He wrapped himself all the way around Nori, clinging tight and in danger of crushing the smaller Dwarf but Nori made no sound of protest.

Dwalin held tight to his love, his lover, his _Nori_ as both their breaths slowed down, as their hearts stopped racing together.

He kissed along Nori’s shoulder and collarbone, nuzzled under the soft hair of his beard to kiss his neck, but Nori turned his face away when he tried to kiss his mouth.

“I just… I’m…” Nori wrinkled his nose a little, squirming out of Dwalin’s arms. Dwalin watched in confusion while Nori grabbed a bottle of water. It was only as Nori swished and spit out the second mouthful of water that Dwalin realized.

Nori wiped his mouth and grinned at Dwalin, coming back to the ruined bedroll.

“That’s ridiculous.” Dwalin said, pulling him back into his arms to hold him, “I’d have kissed you.” It was a little _strange_ to think of, but in the end it would be like refusing to kiss a lover who’d sucked his cock. If a lover could do something for him with his mouth, then Dwalin could kiss that mouth.

“Yeah, well, _I_ feel better now.” Nori said, and Dwalin kissed him. Nori gave him a _little_ teeth, just enough to keep it interesting as they shared slow warm close kisses.

“Something nobody ever gave you, so you don’t forget me when you go.” Nori mused, and Dwalin snorted a short laugh.

“Like I ever could.” Dwalin said, stroking his thumb across Nori’s cheek as he tried to commit every little bit of his face to memory before his longer trip away. The wrinkles around Nori's copper and emerald eyes, the softness of his lips, the silkiness of his hair – what little of it Dwalin was allowed to touch when Nori hadn’t given specific permission.

“I’ll be back wandering soon. I’ll find you. I’m _yours_.” he promised, and Nori smiled up at him and kissed him, but his eyes were worried.

Dwalin wouldn’t have been going back to Erebor so soon if he had a choice, but he didn’t really. Every Dwarf of Erebor who _could_ was going back to the mountain.

He’d be leaving in the morning, but he and Nori didn’t talk about where he was going or why.

For tonight he just had Nori warm in his arms in the ruined bedroll, an ache in his muscles from unusual use, and the warmth and slickness of Nori's seed inside him.

He did not want or need _anything_ else.


	3. Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin is in Erebor

The stone of Erebor sang, but not all of her songs were comforting.

Dwalin sat, looking up at the dark stone of the Basalt Tower, the winding steps and the gold inlay.

This was not a place that had been carved to sing of welcome.

If not for the interference of family, this was the last song either Nori or Dwalin would have heard the stone sing.

Most Dwarves who weren’t trained to it or who didn’t spend so much time on the surface wouldn’t even realize they heard it, would only know how uncomfortable it made them feel.

“You choose a morbid place to rest, brother.” Balin said, tucking his hands in his wide sleeves and turning his back to the tower, fine gold beads gleaming in his white beard as he hunched his shoulders against the song of the place.

“I do.” Dwalin said, and when he made no move to get up and return to more welcoming stone, Balin sighed and joined him. His family was used enough to Dwalin’s odd habits when he returned from the surface, more sensitive to the stone. He had not seen Balin in a long time, his company was welcome.

“If I hadn’t left Erebor, that’s where I would be.” Dwalin finally said.

“Dwalin…” Balin chided gently, but Dwalin gave him a look and he stopped.

“You know it’s true.” Dwalin said, “You know that’s where I was heading.” He flexed his big hands in his knuckledusters to hear the familiar comforting clink of the chains and creak of the leather, “I can’t stay still. I need something to _do_ or I…” He trailed off, looking up at the Basalt Tower.

“Morose thoughts for the eve of the Coronation.” Balin said.

“Mmm.” Dwalin agreed with a short nod. The mountain was full of celebrating Dwarves and Dwalin couldn’t help but think of one who could _not_ come back.

“I don’t know law.” Dwalin finally said, “But if someone committed a crime a long time ago, and escaped punishment…” he trailed off, not really sure how to say what he wanted Balin to look into for him.

“Well, there’s the statute of limitations.” Balin said.

“And what does that do?” Dwalin asked.

“It means someone can’t be tried _too_ long after the fact.” Balin explained patiently. That sounded promising.

“So for… trying to steal secrets…” Dwalin wasn’t sure what someone who knew law would call what Nori had tried to do in Gundabad.

“Well, if it was spying on the Crown that’s treason and would be _very_ long.” Balin said, “But for industrial espionage it wouldn’t be more than a few decades, depending on severity.”

Dwalin nodded. That was _very_ promising. Thorin couldn’t hold his price over Nori’s head for Gundabad forever.

“The more severe the crime, the longer the statute. The only things that _don’t_ have a statute of limitations are rape and murder.” Balin said.

Ah, and there it was. Even if Gundabad wasn’t over Nori’s head, the murder would always be – and Dwalin slumped.

Balin’s hand was warm on his back, “Even that…” he said quietly, hesitantly, “We would still have… recourse. Our family is not without connections…”

“And if we weren’t Noble?” Dwalin asked, “Would we still have recourse?”

Balin was quiet beside him for a moment before he answered, “Dwalin… I can’t advise you if I don’t know the specifics of what we’re discussing.”

That was probably true, even if Dwalin wasn’t sure still what he needed Balin to do.

“Keep it private?” Dwalin asked. He couldn’t have Nori’s story spreading around everywhere. Nori liked his privacy.

“I will be the soul of discretion.” Balin promised, and Dwalin nodded.

“He was scheduled for it.” Dwalin said, gesturing up at the Basalt Tower with a turn of his head, “During the reign of Thror, but the story… it doesn’t sound right. He was beaten – left for _dead_ – but nothing happened to his attackers. There was no justice for him in Erebor.”

Dwalin felt the warning in the song of the stones around the tower to match the warning in the gold inlays. This was the final threat, intending to serve as a warning. Go too far, and _this_ waited for you.

“So he killed them.” Dwalin finished, the final stone that condemned Nori settling in its place. It had been rash and impulsive, not a good choice on Nori’s part. Nori had made many choices that were not _good_ … but so had Dwalin.

Balin’s intake of breath was sharp, nearly enough to be called a gasp had his mouth been open.

“…in a situation like that…” He said, after a moment’s pondering, “only a Royal pardon would suffice. We could sue for one, considering the extenuating circumstances, if the facts collaborate the story…”

A Royal pardon… and Dwalin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bitter in his mouth. If only Nori had told him _sooner_. If only Nori had not made an enemy of Thorin in Gundabad.

“He’s a thief.” Dwalin said, “Thorin set a price for his arrest _personally_.”

“…ah.” Balin answered softly. His eyes were bright with question as he searched Dwalin’s face.

“Who?” he finally asked.

Dwalin sighed, looking down at his hands. There was no point in denying it.

“The Dwarf I love.” he answered.

“Oh, Dwalin.” Balin sighed, and there was sorrow but no condemnation in his face when Dwalin looked at him. “You never do things the easy way, do you?”

Dwalin shrugged. He didn’t _set out_ to make things difficult for himself or anyone else.

“A killer…” Balin mused.

“It could have been me.” Dwalin cut him off, before he could go further. He looked up at the Basalt Tower, standing grim over them, “It could have been me living in exile all these years, without a hope of stone over me. It’s just luck I’m not.” and his brother sighed, conceding the point.

“For how long have you loved him?” Balin asked.

“Since the reign of Thror.” Dwalin answered quietly.

“And you _never_ thought to mention?” Balin asked, and Dwalin shrugged again. It hadn’t seemed important. His life outside the mountain was so different than his life within it. The two did not normally meet, but things had changed now. Dwalin _knew_ now.

“Well, you’re telling me now.” Balin comforted himself, “What’s his name? His family and line… I’ll need that for looking into his case, regardless. There may be _something_ in the finer details we can use…”

“Nori.” Dwalin answered, “He never told me the rest.”

Balin’s lips thinned with displeasure. He was _trying_ to be supportive, Dwalin could see it, but this he did not like. Especially on top of everything else.

“He says he loves you but he hasn’t even told…” Balin started sharply.

“I didn’t say that.” Dwalin interrupted, and Balin stopped. “I said _I_ loved _him_.” Dwalin’s heart still hurt a little to think of it, but he wouldn’t give Balin a false impression. “He’s my lover and I’m… _one_ of his.” he said it softly, and he could practically feel how Balin tensed beside him.

If Balin had been displeased before, he practically radiated it now.

But Dwalin _loved_ Nori. He wouldn’t be _Nori_ if he were tied and owned. But Balin, Balin mired in politics and propriety and the movements of houses in the royal court, all the intricacies Dwalin had never been able to wrap his head around… maybe he would never be able to see what Dwalin had. That it was _enough_ for him to have Nori when he had Nori. Having a taste of the best was better than settling for more of something he didn’t even _want_. He only wanted Nori.

Maybe asking for Balin’s help had been a bad idea, but Dwalin didn’t know who else he could ask.

“He didn’t send me.” Dwalin said, “He didn’t _ask_ me to do this. He doesn’t know I’m doing it.”

They sat in silence for a while, under the threatening song of the Basalt Tower, before Balin spoke again.

“I don’t know what you expect me to be able to do, Dwalin. I would help you if I could, but a single name – and a common one – is not _enough_.” he sighed.

“He has brothers. Dori and Ori, and a sister Viri.” Dwalin said. He had hoped that would be enough to find them. Nori would have told him not to if he’d known what Dwalin planned, but Dwalin hadn’t told him. As long as Nori didn’t know, it didn’t violate the terms of his word to Dori, that he would not try to contact them. Dwalin had not been sent by Nori, he just needed to have _words_ with Dori. Words about the cruelty of the exile he’d imposed on his brother.

“Oh?” Balin was surprised for a moment. “I _know_ a Dori… of course it might not be the same one, but…”

“You’ll look into it?” Dwalin asked. There wasn’t much hope, but if there _was_ a way for Nori to come home, Balin would find it.

“Aye, for _you_ , brother.” Balin nodded tiredly, “I should be able to find his case. I just don’t know why you’d want a Dwarf with… that kind of character.”

Dwalin bit back any sharp things he could have said. Nori _wasn’t_ the best of Dwarves, but neither was Dwalin – despite what they might think of him in Erebor now that he was not a drunken disgrace.

“How many lovers has our new King had?” he asked instead.

“You hush.” Balin said, with a small huff. “That is… he’s taken none officially.”

“Hmm.” Dwalin answered. If the King himself dallied where he wanted and never chose a single lover, how could Balin judge Nori for the same? Dwalin could have brought up Thorin's involvement with Azog, but that would not be fair. Thorin, after all, had clearly not spread the story of Dwalin and Nori around, and Dwalin had already made his point.

 

Dori looked up with a polite smile as the massive bald and tattooed brute of a warrior stomped into his shop. There was quite a bit of business, with the Coronation of Thorin and all. The mountain was full of delegations from all sorts of Kingdoms and with Dwarves who might have been wandering otherwise.

The warrior had the look of someone who might be trying to cause a ruckus, like he’d take any excuse to punch someone, but Dori had the experience to know his type was as likely to be looking for a pretty present for someone as anything else.

“How can I help you?” he asked, and the warrior stopped glowering at the shop to glower at Dori instead.

“You’re Dori son of Kori?” he asked gruffly.

“I am, how can I..” Dori started, but the rude warrior had turned from him to gesture to someone outside. Six burly Dwarves followed him in, carrying three small chests that _thumped_ solidly as they stacked them.

Gold. Only gold was that heavy. What in Durin’s name…

“That’s _twice_ what you paid to free him.” the warrior growled, scowling down at Dori. He reached forward to poke Dori in the chest with one big tattooed finger. “You _can’t_ hold it over his head anymore.”

Dori’s mind spun. …paid? …who? Until the ‘freed’ part finally made sense, added together with the fact that the warrior was _exactly_ the rough type Nori had always gone for.

It couldn’t really be.

Nori didn’t believe that rules applied to him, he’d not have kept his word. He wouldn’t have honored the promise Dori made him swear when he was too young and too angry to know what he was asking. The promise he’d had so many decades to learn to regret. If Nori was alive he’d have snuck back into Erebor _decades_ ago in some disguise or another; he’d have been perched on the kitchen counter laughing at him some morning when Dori got up.

If Nori was alive, he would have come back. He would have sent presents at least – he’d never been able to resist doing that, giving them little things he’d stolen.

Dori’s brother was dead, or he’d have heard from him. He’d had _so long_ to get used to the idea of that. Nori must have gotten into trouble and died somewhere out there in the world and Dori had _never_ had a way to contact him…

Dori grabbed the arm of the warrior who’d already turned to leave. The warrior tried to shake Dori off, but Dori wasn’t known for being the strongest Dwarf in Erebor for _nothing_. He jerked his arm away harder, and then clearly with all his strength before his blue eyes widened beneath his heavy brow and he stood obediently still, watching Dori.

“He’s _alive_?” Dori choked out, the tears that had always come too easily to him already blinding his eyes, he shook the warrior’s arm, “Nori is _alive_?”

“Aye. Alive and well.” the warrior answered, and his voice was maybe a touch less gruff.

Nori was alive.

After all these years, Nori was alive and now Dori really _was_ crying now. He held on tight to the warrior because if, after all this time, he missed his chance to send a message to his brother he would _never_ forgive himself.

“You take that away.” Dori gestured at the chests of gold, “Take them _away._ You can’t buy me off. I won’t have you cheapening what I did for my brother!”

“He’s _alive._..” Dori couldn’t believe it. Of all the things Dori had ever asked him, it was the _one_ thing he regretted asking him that Nori honored.

“Alive. Makes his living as a wandering thief.” the warrior answered – and of course Nori wouldn’t go honest. He’d be a thief until the day he died and a moment ago Dori thought that day must have come and gone _years_ ago.

“Nori!” Dori shouted into the back room, blinking the tears from his eyes as his sister’s child came running out of the backroom, _“Run_ get Ori and your mother and siblings, fast as you can. Nori – my _brother_ Nori – is _alive_.”

Young Nori gasped, hazel eyes that matched the elder Nori’s going wide for just an instant before the Dwarfling’s lean little body shot out the door at full speed.

“Please stay.” Dori begged the warrior he still wasn’t letting go of even a _little_ bit, “Please, we’ve heard nothing, had no contact, since the day he ran. Anything you can tell us…”

“I’ll stay.” the warrior promised, and Dori let him go. He felt a little bad about the deep white fingermarks on his arm. Dori’s grip must not have been comfortable.

“Forgive me. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Dori wiped helplessly at his eyes with a handkerchief, but it was useless as his eyes were still streaming. It was good Viri and Ori were close by, because Dori was going to be _useless_ until he could get his tears to stop – and that might be quite some time.

Nori was _alive_ , after all this time.


	4. trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...been a while since we've had Nori's perspective.

Nori wasn’t pacing in the camp.

He wasn’t chewing on his nails.

There were small knives dancing fretfully through his fingers for a moment now and then before disappearing again, but nothing that would leave any _evidence_ of nerves. He’d trained himself out of all those habits many years ago.

There was a small campfire, but there was no pot of spicy stew simmering on the edge of it. Nori had unpacked and repacked his cooking things half a dozen times, changing his mind again before he started anything, and in the end he’d decided not to cook anything.

The poison was tucked into his cuff, easy enough to palm and slip into someone’s food or water unnoticed.

…not just _someone_. Dwalin.

Dwalin was hunting Nori again.

Dwalin had come back from Erebor and was looking for Nori. He’d come back from an Erebor now ruled by a king who hated Nori, hated him _specifically_ and _personally._ A king Dwalin was loyal to above his loyalty to Nori. Gundabad had proven that.

If Dwalin had been ordered to drag Nori in, he would do it.

Or he would _try_ to. Nori wouldn’t go easy.

He’d have died a _long_ time ago if he were easy to kill.

Dwalin was hunting Nori. He’d _said_ he’d come looking for Nori again when he left Erebor. Nori wasn’t running, and he didn’t have a pot of poisoned stew cooking.

Not that Dwalin would trust it even if he cooked just a regular pot of stew now that he knew _that_ trick.

Nori hadn’t even made any deadfall traps to run through if it came to running, and he _knew_ that wasn’t smart of him. He _should_ have been more prepared against a foe as potentially dangerous as Dwalin. He just had his knives and a small flashbomb hidden in his boot. Toss it on the fire and anyone unprepared would be briefly blinded.

And the poison in his cuff, ready to be palmed and used.

…Dwalin twitching as he choked to death on his own tongue…

No.

Nori forced himself to _breathe_ , a vicious little throwing knife flashing across his knuckles.

No it wouldn’t… it wouldn’t come to _that._

He would do it if he had to. He valued his own skin above anyone else’s, but he wasn’t going to have to.

Dwalin _had_ said he would come looking for Nori again when he left Erebor. They would probably just be together the way they’d always been.

They would be traveling together the way they’d always done, just maybe a little better now. Dwalin had always been the best guard Nori could hire, the lover he trusted most not to hurt him in rough play. Gundabad had nearly broken them, and that was Nori’s fault. He _should_ have looked into things closer – should have _known_ that Dwalin was going to be there and rejected the job. He never took jobs where he would be going against Dwalin. It had been a miscalculation, a big one, but Dwalin forgave him for it.

And Nori could forgive Dwalin for being a Nob, since he didn’t _act_ like one.

They talked more since Gundabad, maybe, though Dwalin still didn’t pry into things he didn’t need to know.

He was Nori’s favorite lover – perfect as the hammer for a hard fuck, enjoyable for a snuggle and a sleepy tumble, and nowadays surprisingly fun to play with as an anvil too.

Bedding Dwalin had always been about fun and pleasure, and it had been worrying when he brought love into it. Nori had never asked for that. Too many old lovers had gotten jealous, but not Dwalin.

At least not so far. He didn’t pry into things he didn’t need to know. Nori kept a close eye on him when they’d been apart, but Dwalin so far hadn’t shown any sign of growing possessive. He didn’t seem to think his love entitled him to anything.

That might have changed, though, with this long trip to Erebor.

They were one thing out in the wilds, a _good_ thing, and another thing altogether among Dwarves. Gundabad had proven that.

Dwalin was hunting Nori down, and Nori wasn’t running. It was probably going to be fine. They would be the way they always were.

There was a small knife jittering back and forth across Nori’s fingers.

It would be fine. Nori would have the axes of the fiercest and most loyal of guards protecting him again. He would have the best fuck who wandered the wilds to share his bedroll.

He would have Dwalin spread out beneath him, fuck himself slow and deep on Dwalin’s big cock while Dwalin moaned, gazing up at him and touching him like a _god_ – worshiping his hair.

Unless Dwalin’s cousin the new king of Erebor had given him an order…

Not even Nori’s hair, much as he loved it, was enough to turn Dwalin’s loyalty – another thing Gundabad had proven. Dwalin could not be bribed. He was _honorable,_ and what made him the best guard also made him _dangerous_.

And Nori hadn’t even made a _single_ deadfall trap to run away through if it came to running. What was he _thinking_? Was he _trying_ to get himself killed?

He _breathed_ and did not touch or look at or in any way do anything that could call attention to the poison tucked into his cuff or the flashbomb in his boot, ready to be used – but only if needed.

Nori was still when Dwalin approached camp, watching him carefully. It would be written all over his face if he weren’t on Nori’s side anymore.

Wouldn’t it?

It would. It _must._ Dwalin was not a practiced liar.

He smiled at Nori as he came into the light of the fire, carrying none of the heaviness Nori would expect if Dwalin were having to do something he didn’t want to do.

They greeted each other and Dwalin set his pack aside, along with his weapons. He did it so casually, as if it were completely normal for him to be disarming himself to join Nori’s camp.

…and it _did_ make Nori feel a little more relaxed even though he _knew_ Dwalin was as dangerous unarmed as armed. It _could_ just be a ruse to get Nori to relax…

but no… Dwalin wasn’t like Nori. He was straightforward. If he were coming to hurt Nori he would go right ahead and do it. He wouldn’t play mind games.

Would he?

Dwalin got out his cooking pot and asked Nori if he’d already eaten before he started cooking enough for both of them. It would be simple stuff, but filling.

It was _nice_ to trade off cooking, and Nori found himself relaxing at the familiar ritual of sharing a camp with the big warrior.

Dwalin settled back comfortably as the pot began to simmer, his eyes smiling at Nori.

“No kisses for me today?” he asked, and there was nothing about him to suggest he was here for any reason but because he wanted to be. He must be safe. They must still be alright. Dwalin wasn’t really the type to go for a goodbye fuck before betraying someone.

Was he?

No he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

Nori smiled and walked across camp to him, and Dwalin pulled him down to straddle his lap with a low growl that traveled from Nori’s ears directly down his spine to his cock. Dwalin’s mouth was hot and hungry on his, his kisses deep and demanding and his big hands all over Nori’s back.

Their bodies together were so good, so familiar. Nori _wanted_ this, rocking his hips to rub himself against Dwalin’s hardening cock. He’d _missed_ this while Dwalin was gone, but he couldn’t let it blind him.

He drew back from the kiss and Dwalin let him go, watching him. The way he looked to Nori for cues even when Nori wasn’t paying him to was… _unfair_ how much he liked that.

“We’re alright?… Thorin didn’t…” Nori asked, and Dwalin was shaking his head.

“Nah, his Majesty had no time small fish.” Dwalin assured him, his big hands palming Nori’s arse to squeeze, “He didn’t have two words for me. No orders. We’re alright.”

And Dwalin wouldn’t lie to him. Nori had to believe that or he’d drive himself insane second-guessing himself.

Something softened in Dwalin’s eyes as Nori accepted that. Dwalin was here because he wanted to be here with Nori. He was here to keep Nori safe, to travel with him the way they always did.

“How was Erebor?” Nori asked lightly.

Dwalin snorted, his hands idly rambling over Nori’s body – Nori’s hands were doing the same to him, kneading at the big muscles he'd have all over him soon enough.

“Too full of people too full of themselves.” Dwalin dismissed, “I managed to step on the toes of three Elves, though! I _think_ they were three different Elves. Can’t tell with the skinny bastards. Gundabad sent some Orcs, too. I don’t envy whoever’s job it was to keep them and the Elves from meeting each other.”

It would have been at an important celebration, one of Nobles, that Dwalin would have met Orcs and stepped on the feet of Elves… but Nori couldn’t hate him for it.

Dwalin was stroking his back, squeezing his arse, and his eyes lingered longingly on Nori’s lips. Nori grabbed a handful of his wiry hair to angle his face up for a kiss – shame he didn’t have his crest anymore. It had been a convenient handle to direct him with.

Years ago they never would have lasted, kissing each other this way would have lead immediately to a fuck and the food would have burned, but maybe they’d both slowed down a little over the decades.

They’d get to the fuck soon enough, and it would be a _good_ one after being apart, but for now they had kisses and closeness and enjoying the build up.

When the food was done Dwalin set Nori aside with one last good grope and grind before serving it up.

They ate together, and it was just so _easy_ to be comfortable beside Dwalin. Nori was _sure_ nobody else was hunting him at the moment, but if they _were_ unexpectedly accosted by someone with a grudge he knew Dwalin would protect him without question – even though they hadn’t discussed employment yet. They would travel together for a bit, if they were going the same direction, and then maybe Nori would hire Dwalin or they’d part ways again for a bit if that made more sense for the moment.

It was all so easy with Dwalin.

Dwalin burped loudly when he was done eating and shoved at the coals of the fire with a stick before stretching his boots out to it to warm them.

“I did something, in Erebor…” Dwalin finally said, “You might be angry about.”

Nori could feel himself freezing, the food in his stomach suddenly feeling like a stone, the last bite in his mouth impossible to swallow.

What could Dwalin have _possibly_ done in Erebor. Nothing good, and Nori’s mind was racing with the horrible possibilities. Poking into the hornet’s-nest of Nori’s past, figuring out how big all the combined bounties on Nori were, alerting old enemies to the fact that he was still around…

…leading them to him…

“I think it turned out for the best.” Dwalin said, and he was taking a thin package out of his pack.

Best? Best for _who?_ And what was in that package? Anything could be in there. Nori should be gone, be as far away from here as possible, but he was just _sitting_ here beside Dwalin.

Dwalin wouldn’t betray him after he said they were alright, would he?

Would he?

“Read them all before you decide to stab me?” Dwalin asked, something begging in his eyes, and Nori silently accepted the leather-wrapped package.

Inside were three thick letters, sealed up with wax. Easy enough to fake… but Dwalin wouldn’t know how to do that.

Nori looked at Dwalin, who gave him a small half-smile Nori had no idea how to interpret. Apology maybe?

What had he done that needed apology?

There was a flashbomb in Nori’s boot, and if it came down to it there was poison waiting in his cuff. Harder to slip him now that Dwalin was done eating, but…

Nori clenched his jaw and neatly broke the seal of one of the letters, choosing it at random.

“ _Nori you little shit, I knew you were still alive. You’re too annoying to die. I’ve missed you so much you wanker…_ ”

Viri. Only Viri would…

Three letters.

Nori broke the seal of the next one with his fingers shaking, it didn’t break as clean, and some tiny part of him protested losing a piece of wax to fake the seal unbroken again.

“ _Nori, please forgive me. I am so sorry for that horrible promise I made you make. I have never forgiven myself for that cruelty. I love you, and I’ve missed you so much. We all have. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead and feared the worst. I’m so angry with Ori for not telling me he’d set up a way to send letters out to you…”_

Dori. Oh Dori, his spidery handwriting all dotted with tear smudges.

Nori broke the seal of the third letter, and he had to blink a few times before his eyes would focus on the familiar perfect scribe’s hand Ori’s childish scrawl had grown into over the years.

_Oh, Nori! I’m so happy you’ve been getting my letters. All these years I was so afraid I was writing letters to no one, keeping a promise to a ghost. I’m sorry I haven’t been better at telling you what’s going on with all of us, I just… I didn’t know! I wish Dori had told me he forgave you, I could have let you know sooner…”_

Nori pressed the letters to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Something was clawing its way out of his throat and he _tried_ to choke it down but he couldn’t. It broke out, a sob across the quiet of the campsite, and he really would put knives in him if Dwalin tried to touch him right now. Nori was not _supposed_ to have the heat of tears on his face or sounds like these in his throat. He’d given up on Erebor and everyone he’d left behind there _so long_ ago. It wasn’t still supposed to hurt so he couldn’t _breathe_.

There was a quiet sound, Dwalin moving around, and then he was playing his viol – like it was just any other evening in the wilds. The viol that had drawn Nori curiously to a camp so many years ago because it sounded like _home –_ and introduced him to the warrior who would be the best lover, and the best guard, and would bring him his family’s forgiveness unasked.

Nori scrubbed his face with his sleeves until he could _see_ again. Dwalin wasn’t watching him, fully engrossed in the song that covered the horrible sounds Nori was making.

He returned to the letters.

Viri had named one of her children for him. Dori’s shop prospered. Ori was working toward his scribe mastery.

They bickered with each other in their letters, each specifically contradicting things the others said, so it was just like sitting at the table with them all talking over each other.

“ _Be careful out in the world. We love you_.” they said, all of them. Over and over, and they did not contradict on that. “ _We’ve missed you so much.”_

“ _The children love the stories of you – little barbarians, the lot of them._ ” Viri said, _“We can’t wait to have more to tell them, if only so we don’t have to tell the same tired stories over and over again_.”

Nori read the letters, and again, and again… and he carefully closed them and packed them back in their leather, wrapping them up as gently as the mithril they were. His eyes stung and he felt… hollow. Hollow and wrung out.

He crawled into Dwalin’s lap, and the warrior silently put his viol aside to hold him.

“ _Take care of that warrior of yours_.” they said in the letters, _“He’s a good one.”_

“ _He’s a sweetheart. I might steal him._ ” Viri threatened.

Dwalin didn’t _say_ anything for a while, thankfully. As long as he didn’t have to talk, Nori could pretend he wasn’t crying on the big warrior’s chest.

No one else in the world would he have trusted like this, to see him vulnerable this way. Dwalin wouldn’t use this to hurt him. Nori _knew_ that, just as he hadn’t used Nori’s momentary weakness at being under Gundabad’s stone against him either.

“I told my brother, too.” Dwalin said, “He’s looking into it. He’s _trying,_ but it doesn’t seem _likely_ you can get a pardon in Erebor…” he said it like he was apologizing for the fact he couldn’t fix _everything_ in a single day.

Nori reached up to put a finger across his lips, and Dwalin obediently fell silent.

“Tell me about my family?” he asked, “Tell me _everything_ about them.”

Nori lay his head against the steady thump of Dwalin’s heart, close and safe in his arms, and _listened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fin
> 
> Thank you all who're still reading this weird AU!  
> I've got a couple more stories in it before we're done.  
> <3,  
> Ts


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